This Ghost of a Kiss
by Akari Sennyami
Summary: R+R please. One-shot focusing on a Nuriko/Miaka pairing. Short, sweet and snowy. Kind of a 'when dreams and reality combine' idea. ^_^ (WARNING: contains FY episode 33 spoiler)


Disclaimer:  Fushigi Yugi does not belong to me.  I have no rights over it at all.  Well, aside from the right to couple together whom I choose, of course. ^_^

 **I warn again: this contains a spoiler for the second series of FY (it's pretty obvious though not outright stated.)  You've had two warnings now: don't blame me if you read this and didn't want any spoilers!**

Author's note:  Hello!  Another short story from the mind of Akari (short story = one-shot: no more chapters, so please don't ask for any!).  I've been wanting to do a Nuriko/Miaka fic for a while, but no particular ideas really came to me.  Then I found I was in the mood, had a certain idea, and a certain image, and this is what it resulted in.

    Enjoy!

**This Ghost of a Kiss**

  Everything was so white.

  The air was crisp with the cleanliness and emptiness that only snow creates.  The sky was impossibly blue, a pure, frosty shade of sapphire, and it stretched forever in every direction like a layer of silk, so thin that you could almost see the stars beyond.

  Miaka stood a moment, gazing around at the pale land, which undulated in ghostly, gentle ripples around her.

  Ahead, a mountain rose gracefully from the earth, covered in whiteness.

  A whispering breeze caught persuasively at Miaka's white cloak, ruffling at her hair beneath the hood.  Her cheeks glowed a pale rose in the cool air.

  Her eyes gazed to the mountain.

  Nuriko traversed the hall in a floating mockery of a walk, his feet moving gracefully nearly a foot above the wooden boards.

   His steps led him unerringly to the outside, where a walkway ran the length of the building.  He came to rest at the barrier, which separated the walkway from the rest of the peaceful sleeping world, where insects chirred, fireflies moved in a glowing, entrancing dance and a night owl swept on silent wings into the depths of the forest.

   His eyes shone a deep shade of violet as Nuriko gazed out into the distant night sky.  The stars shone down with their usual cold brilliance, ever unaware of the vast spectrum of thought and emotion that wheeled ever on beneath their endless velvet kingdom.

  Miaka found that she was walking, moving quite purposefully towards the mountain ahead.

  The snow-covered ground was no obstacle to her.  Somehow, she found that her feet moved over the surface of the deep white drifts, leaving nothing but the faintest of footsteps in her trailing wake.

  She moved on across the landscape, and found herself scaling the side of the mountain.  

  The breeze rose again, urging her on with its silent voice and gently sweeping energy.  Miaka answered the call, forging on up the pale slope.

  The night air would have felt cool to Nuriko at this hour.  At this hour, his bare feet would have welcomed the soft chill of the wooden floors, and he would have smiled patiently as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, lit only by the faraway light of the moon.  At this hour, he would have thought about his heart in a way that was easy and weightless, with the word 'tomorrow' to soothe himself.

  _Tomorrow I'll tell her.  _

_  Tomorrow I'll hold her._

_  Tomorrow._

  Now, Nuriko stood still, his eyes closed, waiting for the night breeze to touch him so that he could let his body give in to its gentle push.  Nuriko waited.

  A smile ghosted across his lips as he heard the breeze move through him, as it moved on to sway the fickle leaves of the trees nearby.

  The mountain's steep side gave way to a plateau.

  Miaka stopped as her feet reached the flat ground, and she looked around.

  It felt strange.  It was colder here, yet it felt warmer at the same time.

  There was snow all around.  It covered everything.  It made everything beautiful.

  Miaka looked ahead.

  There was someone there.

  She stepped forward as her eyes met with a soft purple gaze.  The lone figure stood on the other side of the plateau, facing her, watching her with friendly, gentle eyes.

  Miaka stepped forward again.  And then she was there, stood in front of Nuriko.

  He reached out to push back her heavy white hood with slender hands.  The cold air kissed Miaka's bared neck softly, but she didn't need to shiver.

  "Nuriko," she said simply.  She smiled.

  Her guardian smiled back, that strange, quirky smile he sometimes had that seemed almost bittersweet to Miaka.

  A single snowflake fell delicately through the air to land lightly on Nuriko's cheek, almost on his beauty spot.  It looked perfect against his pale skin.

  Nuriko turned to the door he knew stood behind him.

  He moved through, without the human need to push it open for entrance.  He was suddenly in the dim closeness of a bedroom.

  The air rippled faintly with Miaka's sleeping breaths.  Nuriko glided to her side, looking down into her face.

  She looked so peaceful.  With an expression as calm and sweet as that, she must be dreaming about something: something quiet and lovely.  A smile played lightly across her face, and Nuriko found himself smiling back at her closed eyes.

  The moonlight that filtered in through the high gaps in the carved wall fell just short of Miaka's sleeping form.  Yet she needed no light to look beautiful, in that young, innocent form of beauty she possessed.

  Nuriko's feet lifted further away from the ground, and he rose over the bed, his slight form bending over the priestess.  One pale hand rested on the bed beside the girl's arm, though there could be no contact and no support.

  She felt a snowflake land on her forehead.  It didn't feel as cold as she'd thought a snowflake felt.  It didn't melt against her skin, either.  It just lay there, like a blessing.

  Nuriko was still smiling, but it seemed a sad smile now.

  "I miss you, Miaka."  His voice was unusually serious, and held a note of sweet pain that Miaka had not heard before.  She gazed at him with troubled eyes.

  She did not know what she should say.  They both knew: they could see each other still, and they could talk still, but it could never be the same.  It would never be the same.

  "I miss you too, Nuriko," she said quietly.  She realised that tears had gathered in her bright eyes, and they flowed in cool rivers down her face.

  Nuriko took the final step that brought them close, and Miaka closed her eyes to his touch, as he leant forwards and kissed the snowflake from her forehead.

  As he moved back, their gazes still close and warm, Nuriko's smile lost a little of its sadness, a little of its regret.

  Miaka, in turn, found herself acting on natural instinct.  She brought her face closer to Nuriko's, turning her head a fraction as she reached his, and closing her eyes as she kissed the snowflake from her guardian's cheek.

  It felt cool, and tasted of nothing.

  Nuriko's smile had gone.  

  Nuriko had gone.

  The plateau of snow was empty.  Miaka gazed fondly down on the snow near her feet, knowing the form that lay, so well loved, so painfully missed, beneath that white, white blanket.

  She stayed for a while.

  Looking down into her peaceful face, Nuriko felt all the regret and bittersweet sadness sweep gently through him more insistently than ever.  He'd only ever wanted one touch.  To once show how he truly felt.

  He leaned down, moving through the dusky air, closing his eyes.

  His lips met hers in a motion that would only ever be the intention of a kiss.  He could not feel the warmth of her lips, or taste the sweetness of her mouth.  He could not touch her at all.

  He paused there a moment, savouring even this ghost of a kiss, and all it meant to him.

  Finally, he lifted his pale face from hers.

  His violet eyes gazed with earnest love into her face, with the deep, eternal pain of regret.

  He glided away.

  Miaka blinked slowly as she woke with the vision of lavender eyes yet in her mind.

  As she waited for her eyes to regain focus in the darkness, she caught something in the corner of her vision. 

  A pale figure hovered, its back half turned to her, its head lifted as if it gazed up at the moon through the carved panels near the ceiling.  Its purple hair seemed to glimmer slightly in the soft light.

  When Miaka turned her head to look properly, there was nothing there but shafts of peaceful moonlight.

  "Nuriko."

  Miaka touched her forehead, then her lips.

  A tear dropped lightly from her cheek, as a smile ghosted sweetly across her face.

  The tear vanished in the cotton of her nightclothes.

  The smile lingered on.

Author's note:  Well, no rain this time, but it seems precipitation was still a key element…  *scratches head*  I don't know why I always do that…  I guess I just love rain and snow.  Anyhoo, hope you liked it- it was meant to be kinda bittersweet, and it was also intended to be quite imagery-laden, so please don't flame me about that: it may have been a bit much for some, but I wanted this fic that way.  This story really means something to me: Nuriko is my joint favourite anime character of all time.  I freely admit to breaking down completely when he died.  

  Enough of my sob stories!

  Well, please leave a review.  *catches a snowflake on her fingertip*  ^_^


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